


Contend With

by temporalgambit



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Platonic Cuddling, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27032917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporalgambit/pseuds/temporalgambit
Summary: (Missing scene/fix-it following the pirate mini-arc.)Kenshin is feeling the aftereffects of his temporary captivity. Sanosuke finds his gentle side.
Relationships: Himura Kenshin & Sagara Sanosuke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Contend With

**Author's Note:**

> am i resurrecting a 90s anime for my own personal gain? yes. am i ashamed? no. 
> 
> anyway, after the whole thing with the pirates, they all just…sailed off into the sunset? denying me the “anime boy catches a cold after getting wet” scene i deserved? do i have to do _everything_ around here, 20 years later? 
> 
> anyway, there’s a lot of sano in this. i just think he’s neat.

It’s quiet, finally.

After a few extraordinarily tense days, the silence of the ship’s interior is simultaneously calming and unnerving. Recently, times like this have become the norm—moments of great turmoil followed by days of relaxation and peace. It’s not such a bad way to live, Sanosuke thinks.

But this one may have left its mark.

With Kaoru and Yahiko blissfully asleep, and their safe return to shore only a few hours away, he has a moment to really _look_ at Kenshin for the first time since they’d been reunited.

He’s lying close to the wall, away from the others. While Kenshin is the type who would usually sit up—a bit more on guard in an unfamiliar place—Sanosuke suspects he’s simply too exhausted to keep himself upright. He wonders how much sleep Kenshin had gotten, if any, during his captivity. If they’d fed him or given him anything to drink. They’d all been provided with some meager rations before departure, but not much by way of _nutrition._

Although Sanosuke can’t see Kenshin’s face from this angle, he can tell by the pace of his breathing that he isn't asleep. He’s _shivering_ , too, having stubbornly refused a place beneath the single blanket provided to the four of them. It had taken some badgering, but Kaoru and Yahiko had eventually agreed to accept opposite ends, worn out as they’d been—which was _fine_ by Sanosuke at the time, but seeing Kenshin _now_ …

The floor beneath them is cool, but not _cold_ , so it’s unlikely that the visible tremors running through his body have an _external_ cause. Judging by the state of his clothes, he’d been completely soaked at least once during his island adventure. It wouldn’t be surprising if he was coming down with something.

At first, he doesn’t really want to make anything of it. Kenshin is obviously trying not to be a bother, and Sanosuke isn’t the type of person to purposefully go after a man’s pride like that. But then he _sneezes_ , a sharp little squeak of a noise, and Sanosuke figures _fuck it, like Kenshin’s gonna fight me over something as useless to him as pride_.

“ _Kenshin_ ,” he whispers, quiet but still somehow loud enough to fill the small space.

“Hnn?” is the response he gets. It’s not the one he’d been expecting.

When Kenshin doesn’t say anything further, or even so much as _move_ , Sanosuke continues, “Are you alright?”

This time, Kenshin lifts his head, turning to glance his way. At first, Sanosuke thinks he looks annoyed—but no, that’s not it. He’s just drowsy, and maybe a little confused. Although the lighting is poor, it’s obvious that his face is flushed, too. Kenshin gazes at him vacantly for a moment before suddenly realizing he hasn’t given a response. “Yes,” he provides. Then, after a beat, “Sorry. You…need not worry.” Then his breath hitches, hitches, and culminates in another poorly-stifled sneeze. Sanosuke rolls his eyes.

“Yeah right, ‘need not worry’. You shoulda just said, if you weren’t feeling good. C’mere,” he pats the floor beside himself. “It’s fine if you don’t wanna worry the girl and the kid, but worry _me_ for a minute.”

Kenshin stares at him like he’s gone insane. Maybe he has. After all, Sanosuke had never really considered himself the nurturing type. But what is he _supposed_ to do—just let Kenshin, whom they had all worked so hard to bring home, lie miserably on the floor of the ship until they reach shore?

That’s not his style, either.

Instead, he just waits until Kenshin, without further prompting, eventually pushes himself up on hands and knees. He winces like something hurts, but Sanosuke can bother him about that later. “C’mon, sit,” he urges, feeling an odd mixture of relief and uncertainty when Kenshin finally scoots over, settling in close enough to brush shoulders. He’s not good at this—the _soft_ stuff, the showing that he _cares_ stuff. He’s the type to give someone a slap on the back as a show of camaraderie, but nothing remotely approaching _tenderness_. That comes much more naturally to Kenshin himself.

Or maybe it doesn’t.

In fact, it _probably_ doesn’t. He knows Kenshin has worked his ass off to become the person he is today. His gentle nature isn’t something that was just handed to him. It would be disrespectful for Sanosuke to brush his efforts off as something easy and inherent to his personality.

But for now…

Without giving himself much time to think about it, Sanosuke brings a hand up, pushing Kenshin’s bangs away from his face and pressing fingers to forehead to gauge his temperature.

Megumi would scold him for his inaccurate measuring system, but the blazingly hot skin he feels in the split second before Kenshin jerks away with a shudder tells him plenty.

“You have a fever,” he states, matter-of-fact.

Kenshin nods. “That makes sense, that—” and then his head snaps forward with two more violent sneezes, barely caught in the crook of his elbow. The damp-sounding sniffle that follows makes Sanosuke cringe, but it’s probably preferable to him wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“With all of my brilliant medical knowledge and years of training, I diagnose you with a cold,” he declares.

Kenshin laughs, then chokes, then starts _coughing_.

“Ah, shit,” Sanosuke thumps him gently between the shoulder blades, “sorry, sorry.”

Kenshin waves a hand as if to say ‘It’s okay,’ but goes silent when the fit finally ends, slumping heavily against Sanosuke’s side. Sanosuke stiffens at the unexpected, warm weight, but when Kenshin doesn’t move after nearly a minute, he realizes he doesn’t mind so much. Following only a small amount of internal deliberation, he wraps an arm around Kenshin’s shoulders, pulling him closer in the hope of making him more comfortable.

Kenshin stirs out of his half-doze at this. “Sano…?”

“Is this better than the floor?” he asks, to which Kenshin nods. “Then stay awhile.” It’s just then that he notices some rather severe purpling around Kenshin’s wrist and the base of his thumb. Although he’d _just_ told himself he wasn’t going to pry, he has to ask, “What happened to your hand?”

“Hm?” Kenshin rouses himself enough to look down, “Oh. That’s…collateral damage from an escape, that it is.”

“That—” okay, so it’s from a method of getting out of restraints that Sanosuke isn’t particularly keen on thinking about at the moment, “—you don’t just— _collateral damage_ , you—”

“Sano.”

He stops. Peers down at Kenshin, who is giving him a very pointed _look_. It’s a relief to see his gaze so clear, just as much as it is a frustration for Sanosuke to know he’s completely pinned. “Fair point,” he concedes. “Does it hurt?”

Kenshin tilts his head back and forth as if trying to decide. “No more than anything else, it does not.”

Sanosuke snorts. “Yeah, like _that’s_ reassuring.”

To his surprise, Kenshin smiles brightly up at him.

“What?” The smile remains. “Don’t look at me like that!” but Sanosuke finds himself grinning back despite himself. “You’re impossible. Go to _sleep._ Quit wasting energy on being weird. You can be weird once you’re feeling better.”

“Fair point,” Kenshin echoes his earlier statement. He pulls away, evidently intent on returning to his previous spot, but Sanosuke holds him in place.

“Where do you think you’re going? I said you could stay.”

Kenshin blinks up at him owlishly. “When does this welcome wear out?”

“When we hit _shore_ , dumbass. Unless you want me to carry you back to Kaoru’s—but that kind of service costs extra.” Kenshin’s only response is to smother a few more half-laugh-half-coughs into his sleeve. “Seriously, though, you have plenty of time to start sleeping off your stupid fever. I’ll play pillow—I don’t mind. If either of those two makes fun, I’ll bop ‘em.”

“Please do not bop anyone,” Kenshin requests, “unless they truly deserve bopping.”

“ _I’ll_ be the judge of that,” Sanosuke assures him. “C’mon now, stop stalling. Rest. Sleep. Whatever. What’ll make you do that?”

He would be embarrassed by his own lack of comforting skills if Kenshin didn’t seem equally unsure of how to get _himself_ into a decent sleeping position. Through trial-and-error, they eventually wind up with Kenshin half curled in Sanosuke’s lap, leaching body heat and keeping his aching injuries off of the floor.

“Comfy?” Sanosuke asks, once he’s pretty sure they’ve settled in.

Kenshin hums—a contented, sleepy noise—and Sanosuke feels his own stupid grin return.

“Good. You rest. And feel better by the time you wake up. That’s an order.”

Shifting slightly in his lap, Kenshin responds, “That doesn’t seem li—like something th— _tha_ —” he buries another, louder sneeze into the fabric of his kimono. His voice is thick with congestion when he finally continues, “—like something that can be promised.”

“Yeah, well,” Sanosuke pets his hair absentmindedly, both pleased and amused when Kenshin lets out a long sigh, “do it anyway.”

Instead of arguing further, Kenshin only nods.

Although he doesn’t fall asleep right away, he certainly _looks_ more relaxed than he had while lying on the floor. And when he does finally drift off, Sanosuke can tell immediately, because he starts _snoring._ It makes sense, since this is probably going to turn into a hell of a cold, but it’s also hilarious. He almost wishes Kaoru or Yahiko was awake to have a little chuckle at Kenshin’s expense. It would serve him right, really, for all of his self-sacrificing nonsense to begin with.

That’s the _thing_ about Kenshin, though. He wouldn’t care if they teased him for snoring. He wouldn’t care if they hassled him about putting himself in danger, either. He isn’t stupid—he knew what he was doing, then and now. And he’d do it again in a heartbeat, perfectly happy to take the brunt of their fussing as long as everyone winds up safe in the end.

He’d gladly do this part, too—the comforting part, the ‘trying to make your teammate feel better’ part. Would he be good at it? Maybe not. By Sanosuke’s estimate, his cuddling skills are subpar at best. But he would _try_ , putting his all into it without the slightest hint of reluctance, because he cares about other people to an almost alarming degree.

And he _adores_ this particular merry band of idiots.

After all, this group, plus a handful of others back on land, has become what Sanosuke would be hard-pressed to call anything other than Kenshin’s family.

To Sanosuke, after a life filled with betrayal and anger and distrust, it’s a concept that is as strange and foreign as it is awe-inspiring, much like Kenshin himself.

So when the dreaded Hitokiri Battousai frowns in his sleep, mumbling something in response to some far off dream that has no business here in a place surrounded by friends, Sanosuke is duty-bound to put a stop to that. Because that’s what comrades do. That’s what friends do. And _family_ , too, probably.

Right?

It must be duty, Sanosuke thinks, soothingly running a hand up and down Kenshin’s back—because the amount of pride he feels when his friend’s features eventually smooth out is akin to the satisfaction he feels after a hard-won fight. And calling this anything _besides_ duty, well…that would be an admission that he _is_ (or maybe _wants to be_ ) good at the mushy stuff, after all.

And that’s more than he’s ready to contend with.

At least for today.

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted to _fever-ish_ on tumblr


End file.
